


As We Know It

by nicknack



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Character Death, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2602619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicknack/pseuds/nicknack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That zombie apocalypse au that nobody specifically asked for but seem to be getting anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As We Know It

Before I get this story going, I just gotta say one thing. Anyone who has made some smartass comment about how "a zombie apocalypse would be so cool" or "I would totally kick butt if the zombies ever took over" can kiss my sweet ass.

This isn't cool, it isn't funny, it doesn’t make you a hero. No matter how hard you try, even the people you hold closest to you get hurt.

The worst part of the whole thing is when one of your comrades is bitten in the heat of it all. The adrenaline is pumping through your veins as you're kicking aside the mindless bodies, the metal tang of gunpowder filling your nostrils and you don't even bother trying to listen too hard or your eardrums will burst from the constant explosion of a never ending stream of bullets being fired. But still, you hear it, the strangled cry of one of your teammates, a sound you've never heard them make before. Your stomach drops and you clear the area, tapping off the delusioned bodies left and right. You make it over to where the noise came from and drop to their side. It doesn't look like anything serious, in all honesty. Usually a little disinfectant and a bandage would patch them right up. In this case, however, even the smallest bite ensures your fate. You look into their eyes and can see the fear that has settled into their body. Because they know deep inside what's going to happen, but it isn't bad enough yet, maybe they can shake it off, maybe they can defeat the disease, maybe they aren't even infected, who knows, the bite isn't even that bad.

Eventually, you see the realization cross their face and they know what they have to do. Without an exchange of words, they look up to you, pleading. So, slowly, you kneel down beside them and you give them their gun, without an exchange of sounds. You secure their hand around it and even help them curl their finger around the trigger. They bring their thumb up and cock it slowly, and look up to you again. You nod knowingly, turn around, and leave the room, giving them one last look of respect and all the courage you can muster before closing the door and waiting. Silence. Silence. A gun fires and you let out the breath you didn't know you had been holding. And you drop your face in your hands, holding back your emotions because this isn't the time. It takes all you have, but you straighten up, raise your own gun again, and start walking away. And you don't forget them. You can never forget them.

And that's why anyone who claimed that zombies would be cool are completely, altogether, fucking nuts.

* * *

Light burned the tops of Jean’s eyelids as the curtains were forced open. He let out a low groan and threw his pillow over his eyes. It was too early to be good, he realized, and allowed himself one minute to wake up before throwing his legs over the side of his bunk, ending the fight to go back to sleep by finally wrenching his eyes open and looking around. Sasha was already dressed and awake, sitting on the bottom bunk next to Connie, munching on one of her three pieces of toast and talking to him in a low voice.

Jean caught hints of the conversation as he ran his fingers through his hair slowly, “leaving soon… overrun again… Levi’s pissed.”

Her eyes flited away from Connie as she finished talking and noticed he was up. “Jean,” Sasha turned to face him and threw a piece of toast at his bare stomach frisbee style. It fell into his lap and he took it gratefully, careful not to get too many crumbs on his bed.

He became more alert, stretching his tight muscles, working out the kinks from the training exercises from yesterday. Sasha waited patiently on her friend until he finally looked her in the eyes and nodded slightly, signaling for her to begin.

“It’s Trost, Jean.”

He waited a few seconds, letting the knowledge sink in, and forced himself to nod. “What about it?”

“They are under attack and the virus is spreading. The people have taken shelter in the school and hospital. They radioed for us about four hours ago for assistance, the Garrison doesn't know what to do per usual. All they are good for is handing out food and preventing a total panic.” Sasha said gently, looking to see if Jean was getting angry or frustrated.

“And sometimes they can’t even do that,” Connie mumbled while sitting up, reaching for his drawer to pull on a pair of the standard uniform pants.

Jean let the information roll around his head before saying anything, trying to think in the clean cut logical way that had gotten him to this point after five years in the military. “How many people are safe?” He decided to ask.

“A good portion of them, a lot of the people are accounted for in the main shelters, they think even more are hiding in personal shelters or still in there homes.”

A weight fell off his shoulders and he relaxed slightly. His mom was smart, she knew what to do in case of an incident. He even made sure she put in a shelter near their house, she was bound to be okay.

“So the garrison wants us to pick up the pieces they can’t handle?” He groaned and reached for a pair of his cargo uniform pants as well, wiggling his hips into them before putting on a black tank top and throwing his vest on over it.

“Generally, yeah,” a deep voice came from the direction of the main hallway in the dorm style building. “Hurry up, you three, we go down in twenty minutes.” Reiner Braun, the team leader for the 104th squad, commanded, hints of his German accent prominent in his speaking, a shit eating grin on his face, considering the circumstances. Bertoldt Fubart stood behind him, wringing his hands out like he always did before they went on assignment somewhere. Jean felt bad for the guy, but uneasiness was just a part of his personality and he was a damn good soldier either way; so what if he looked like he was about to shit his pants eighty percent of the time.

“Who all is going?” Jean asked, pulling on his boots as well, tying them a bit too tight to prevent himself from slipping as he ran. Five years of training and reconnaissance missions would be utterly useless if he broke his damn ankle three minutes into the recovery.

Reiner scratched his head, racking his brain for an answer. “The 104th, Levi’s special ops squad, Erwin will be commanding, probably. The usual.” He shrugged his shoulders and pulled out of the doorway. “Twenty minutes!” He yelled back at them, voice booming through the hall.

Bertoldt stood remaining in the doorway, unsure of what to do with himself. “I’ll see you down there, okay?” His voice was amazingly soft-spoken for the tallest member of the squad; he gave them a little smile before following Reiner into the hallway and down the stairs.

Jean stood up, fully dressed, looking out of the window. The sky was beginning to cloud up and it looked like it as if it were going to rain soon. Fantastic. A small pack of new inductees were jogging weakly through the heart of camp. He knew that while they were struggling now, in a couple of months they would be able to run miles effortlessly. Shadis knew how to get fresh meat into excellent shape. He tried not to reminisce too hard and the memories of his earlier days. He had been chubbier when he started as a trainee, but slimmed down all too quickly due to the strictly portioned meals and vigorous exercise he had to go through every day. If it had been bad for him, though, it was terrible for Sasha. He tried not to smile as he remembered how she use to bribe people into giving them their rolls, promising to take up chores for them. Christa was usually the only one who took pity on her, however, occasionally giving her the last of her roll or a couple bites of her potato. He remembered how aggressive she could get, threatening Bertoldt so harshly, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

“Yo, Kirschstein, you coming?” Connie yelled at Jean, snapping him out of his stupor by throwing a pillow at him, which Jean easily ducked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” he muttered, following the two of them out.

They walked down the stairs quickly, leaving the building and taking long strides across the camp to reach the main building where the rest of the 104th was waiting. Levi stood in front of everyone while they stood at attention, his own squad leaning against the wall and quietly muttering.

Jean fell into attention beside Armin, who barely gave him a side look before focusing his eyes to the front again.

Levi huffed impatiently, “Kirschstein, I don’t even want an excuse to why you were late. Braus wipe the crumbs off your shirt and Springer wipe that smirk off your face.”

They both fell into line next to Jean, before Corporal explained their objective. “First we clear the area, setting up a perimeter around the town which will consist of my special op squad. They make sure no one gets through. We start by evacuating the school, four or five people to every group of fifteen or so, if there are any injured get them out first. And four of you guys, not the goddamn Garrison. Get them on the buses, then we move to the hospital, same thing. Once we know they are safe, work your way through Trost in groups of four, get everyone out you can. If anyone has been bitten-” Levi’s demeanor seemed to shift for half a second as he paused, “-there will be a separate bus they will be placed on and taken to medical attention from Hanji.”

Erwin entered the room, taking all of our attention as he bent down to mutter something in Levi’s ear. Levi gave a short nod and looked at the 104th, “Gear up, we leave in fifteen minutes.”

The squad hurried out of their neatly formed line to a separate building where Jean was handed his gear. After taking off his recon corp vest, he stepped into the straps and pulled them up to the middle of his thigh buckled the belt around his waist. He then slid his arms through the top and fastened the other buckle over his chest. It allowed the person fighting in it to move in a more nimble manner, but still keep strong center. The straps on their legs attached to a thigh holster on the right side that held a .45 caliber and three separate magazines clips, while the left side held a sheath with the military issued combat knife. They each put on their cargo vest over the gear at various times until everyone was geared up and ready to go.

Reiner looked over his team, gave a reassuring smile and boomed, “Let’s go one-oh-four!” With various levels of enthusiasm, the squad left the room to the heavy duty troop transport trucks that would take them to their destination.

Jean closed his eyes, the inescapable feeling of dread settling under his skin. This should be like any other recovery mission, really. All he had to do was go in, do his damn job, and everything would end well. _Only this wasn't like the other times_ , he began to reason. His mom was there, his home, his old life. That was where he used to run, play, get hurt, cry, it was all there, where he had grown up. What if he recognized some of the infected? He didn’t know if he could handle it if he did.

A hand appeared on Jean’s shoulder, making him flinch due to his already heightened nerves. He turned to face it’s owner and let his breath out, “Armin.” He relaxed a bit.

“Jean,” he nodded, giving the taller man a slight smile. The continued walking to the trucks until Armin spoke again. “Are you going to be okay?” He asked, “I know you lived in Trost, I assume you’ve got family there...”

Jean smiled casually, “yeah of course, I’ll be just fine. It shouldn’t be a problem really, just a simple job, all you gotta do it go in guns blazing, pull the girl out of the burning building, you know, play it classy, be a hero, it’s nothing different from what I’ve done every-”

“Jean.” Armin cut him off. Jean looked down to see him smiling sadly.

“What?”

“You talk too much when you are upset.” He put his hand lightly on Jean’s arm. “Don’t worry, more than likely your family made it to one of the shelters, I was listening to Erwin earlier and he actually sounded impressed at how many people the Garrison managed to get to safety.”

“Yeah, well, then why would they need our help?” Jean asked before he could stop himself, biting his lip after he did. _This was Armin_ , he reasoned. He could always say what was on his mind to Armin, he was kind as well as intelligent. Even though he wasn’t the best at fighting, he was someone Jean would always want at his side going into a mission.  He was a damn good strategist, and even though Armin wasn’t allowed to talk about it, Jean knew he had been asked to help Erwin plan recon assignments in the past.

Armin shrugged, never losing his smile. “Because we are the best,” he stated simply.

* * *

It took three trucks to fit all of member of the recon corps scheduled for the recovery, and in ten minutes the emergency transport buses were lined up. Jean found himself in the bus with Gunther, Reiner, Bertoldt, Armin, Mikasa, Eren, Franz, and Hannah. He sat between Eren, who seemed slightly less than thrilled at this arrangement, and Bertoldt, who was wringing his hands out furiously. Jean wanted to help him in some way, give him a pat on the back, or some small words of encouragement, but as he reached up to put his hand on his shoulder, Reiner grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and began muttering softly into his ear. Jean pulled his hand down quickly, running it through his short undercut so as to seem inconspicuous. God, he truly was awful at this.

He tried not to listen too hard to the conversations around him. Franz and Armin were talking about the outlay of Trost, preparing for the route they might possibly take. Mikasa was whispering to Eren in a low tone, whose own voice gradually began to rise as he became more frustrated, catching everyone’s attention.

“No, Mikasa, you’re going to get your orders and I’m going to get mine!” Eren’s voice suddenly rose to a yell.

The whole truck got quiet. Everyone stared at the two of them and Jean could feel the everyone’s tension levels rise, so he nudged Eren with his shoulder. “Hey man, tone it down, I think I heard an echo.”

“Fuck off, Jean,” he muttered and hung his head down, avoiding everyone’s eyes, including Mikasa’s. I faced her instead and gave her a small smile, which she returned slightly, and bent her head to continue muttering to Eren. He kept his voice down when responded this time.

Armin managed to catch Jean’s eye and gave him a smile. He gave Jean the overwhelming feeling that everyone thing was going to workout somehow, someone had his back. Armin turned back around to talk to Franz and Hannah who were trying to inconspicuously hold hands, even though everyone already knew they were crazy about each other.

Jean closed his eyes, ignoring the wooden seats that were already making his ass hurt. It wasn't like the bumpy terrain was helping, every jolt went straight to his lower back and the cramped quarters made him ache even more. He already knew his own plan, even if it deferred from the team’s mission slightly. Not soon enough, the truck came to a halt. Everyone stood up quickly, arming themselves and moving out of the truck.

A voice crackled to life in Jean’s earpiece, and Erwin began commanding the group as a whole. “Stay alert now, the Garrison says most of the infected have gravitated toward the northern half of the city, but you never know who is hanging around.”

Jean caught up with Sasha and Connie, Sasha wielding a huge crossbow and Connie loading a clip into his gun. To his right, Jean could see Christa carrying a case with a sniper’s rifle in it, Ymir striding beside her, instinctively protecting her back side. Together they were an excellent team, Christa would find high ground and set up her rifle and remain there until we headed out, picking off anything who tried to attack them up to six hundred yards away. Ymir would keep watch around her, picking off any infected that tried to sneak up on her while her back was turned. The two of them had saved their asses more times than the team would care to admit.

The squad were split into groups of three, instructed to make their way into the heart of Trost from different points, taking out as many as they could on the way. Jean went with Reiner and Sasha, the three of them running at a slow jog through one of the old trails leading into town. Their first infected showed up three minutes after the squad split up. Sasha calmly raised her crossbow and fired, hitting it square in the forehead and causing it to crumple to the ground. She didn’t even break her stride as she had to reload it with another bolt. _Armin was right,_ Jean thought, _we really are the best._

Jean was the quietest on his feet, so as soon as the infected started appearing at a more frequent pace, the group slowed down from their jog and he lead them thirty yards ahead. A second infected appeared and he tapped it off as if there was nothing to it. As they came closer to the center of town, taking out infected every sixty yards or so, Jean didn’t notice his pace was speeding up gradually. He made his way around a bend in the path, eyes flitting back and then setting his gaze straight ahead and mind wandering for a second. He was brought back down to earth when Reiner’s deep voice cried out, “Jean!”

Jean twisted himself around and saw two infected right behind him, concealed by the way the trees had grown into the curve. He let out a strangled cry as the one closest to him took a swipe at his face, forcing him to duck and throw himself backwards. Reiner was already charging forward, catching the it in between his huge arms. He fell into a roll, using the body to brace his fall, grabbing his knife sheathed at his thigh in mid-roll and plunging it in it’s chest. After he was sure he hit his mark, he threw the infected to the side and stood up.

The sharp twang of a bowstring snapping filled the air and Jean watched the other infected fall to the ground in front of Reiner. Jean looked around for anymore threats as Sasha jogged over to the two of them. “There’s a zombie behind you,” she muttered, extending her hand for Jean to take.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” he muttered, getting to his feet and straightening his jacket before looking up to Reiner.

“Don’t worry about it” he nodded with a small smile, clasping his back hard. It forced Jean to stumble forward a few steps in an attempt to regain his balance. Reiner grabbed Jean by his jacket, forcing him upwards, before moving his attention forward, raising his gun.

“Two o’clock,” he said calmly. Jean moved to the side, watching a body drop to the ground and the echo of a gunshot rang in his ears.

They continued walking together, more alert now, not letting a foot of woods go past them without keeping an eye out for infected.

“Hey Sash,” Reiner muttered, flitting his eyes from left to right, never letting down his gun.

“What is it, Reiner?” She said in a mockingly deep, sing-song voice.

“Don’t ever shoot a target that close to me again.”

“I wouldn’t have hit you.”

“Yeah, probably, but I would rather not be the one to ruin your streak. It’s not as impressive.” He chuckled, letting Sasha know he wasn’t really mad.

Jean caught sight of an infected making his way from the end of the road straight in front of them. He gave a little smirk, “hey, do you think I can hit it?”

Reiner snorted, “from here? You wish, Kirschstein.”

Jean concentrated on his target, zeroing in on the heart. _Take a deep breath... take another one… fire._ The body crumpled to the ground and Jean tried not to laugh too victoriously. “Damn, I should have bet money on it.”

Reiner chuckled with him. “Real shame you didn’t.”

They made it to the clearing at last, and were forced to immediately start shooting. Infected surrounded them, feasting on some of the unfortunate people who didn’t make it to shelter. Jean began pointing and shooting, tapping off four infected in under ten seconds. “Sasha, cover my back!” He yelled as they began to run to one of the houses closest to them. She threw her crossbow to the side and pulled her gun out of her holster, immediately firing twice.

“What’s the plan, Kirschstein?” She said as the three of them turned their backs to the wall.

“Why the ever loving fuck would you ask me?” He muttered, looking past the side of the house into the center of town. He saw Franz, Bertoldt, and Annie’s group up ahead. Jean gave a small wave which only Bertoldt reciprocated. They jogged over to the three of them, Reiner reaching out and gripping Bertoldt around his waist..

“You didn’t have any problems did you?” Reiner asked his boyfriend.

Bertoldt shrugged his shoulders, ducking his head to lean into Reiner’s touch. He spoke in his low voice, “Franz had one come up on his back, I got it quick though. That was about the most exciting thing that happened.”

Reiner planted a kiss on his cheek, making Bertoldt blush bright red. “Good job.” He smiled at how flustered Bertoldt got at the praise.

“Just doing my job,” he mumbled, turning into Reiner’s shoulder to hide his embarrassment.

“Oh wow, how adorable, now can we get going?” Jean muttered, trying not to get nauseated from the public affection.

“You jealous, Jean?” Reiner laughed kindheartedly, throwing a massive arm around Jean’s shoulder and kissing Jean’s cheek as well.

Jean let out a strangled cry, trying to free himself from Reiner’s massive grip. “Dude, whoa!”

The boy’s roughhousing was interrupted by a crackling through the earpiece. Levi’s voice growled through the intercom, “Kirschstein, Braun, save your displays of affection for later, preferably in private. Everyone rendezvous at the center of town, don’t do anything stupid.”

Jean could feel his face flush as Sasha and Connie began to crack up.

“Oh god, whose face is redder, Jean’s or Bertoldt’s?” Connie huffed out through exasperated breaths and put his hand on Franz’s shoulder in an attempt to keep himself up from laughter.

Reiner brought his hand to Bertoldt’s shoulder, laughing. He placed another kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek.

“We need to to go,” Annie said firmly, taking up the back of the group and pushing them toward the center of town. Jean grumbled and quickly picked up his pace to lead the group to avoid talking to his team members.

Sasha appeared at his side, making him flinch as he made a grab for his gun.

She raised up her hands, “Jean it’s okay.” She had regained ahold of her crossbow and a new bolt was loaded. “So what’s up your butt, Gene?”

Jean groaned internally at the lame attempt of a nickname he had somehow obtained when he first joined the Recon corps and everybody pronounced his actual name wrong. " _It’s French you uneducated twits!"_ He had yelled one night in an attempt to explain the correct pronunciation to his squad, only making them laugh harder. “Nothing, Sash.” He muttered, keeping his eyes fixed ahead. Most of the squads had gathered together and he saw the glint of a scope reflecting light over a tall building at the edge of town. It looked as if Christa and Ymir had set up.

Sasha looked as if she was about to persist further, but thankfully for Jean, Connie caught her attention and began talking to her about a particularly aggressive infected they had come across earlier. Jean could have sighed with relief as the team gathered together.

It was hard not to notice how synchronized the 104th was. After three years of training and working together, they had gotten to know and trust each other well. Some pairs worked better with others, of course, but all in all, together they were a well oiled machine. Even now their entire attention appeared to be focused on Erwin, but in reality their eyes were constantly flitting from side to side in case something appeared out of nowhere.

“Eld, Petra, Gunther, and Oulo have created a perimeter on the outermost of town, they make sure nothing gets it. There are no doubt infected crawling through the city, although most were centered around the school. Eren’s group took care of them efficiently, but that doesn’t mean to let your guard down.” Erwin spoke with a voice that portrayed confidence and leadership. Jean had learned quickly why he was the commander of the Recon Corps, he had a stature that demanded respect and plenty of skill and brains to back him up. “We begin with the school, evacuate quickly and efficiently like we have done a thousand times before. “Today shouldn’t be a day for anyone to get hurt.”

Erwin turned as to signal the group to move north of town toward the school. They made their way halfway through the small village before Erwin caught up with Levi and the two of them went back west toward the hospital to access the situation there. Jean found himself walking beside Eren, so he figured he should bring up a bit of small talk. “So, you killed off a load of infected?”

Eren turned to face Jean, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Jaeger was always one for serious business, and anyone who interrupted him was bound to at least get yelled at, if they were lucky. Jean immediately regretted asking, turning ahead so he could blow off any of Eren’s anger.

Instead Eren just let out a small sigh and nodded. “Yeah, over thirty of them. It was a mess, I thought Daz was going to shit himself.”

Daz heard his name and turned around, “Hey!” He tried to defend himself. “It was just a little overwhelming.”

Eren smiled lightly, muttering only so Jean could hear. “Yeah, just a ‘little’.”

Jean’s smile was interrupted by the familiar crack and echo of a gun. The 104th whirled around instinctively, looking for the source of the noise and raising their respective weapons. Directly behind them an infected was shot down before it could creep up on the team. Jean tried to identify the shooter while simultaneously denying that it was him who shot the infected.

“You’re welcome.” Christa’s voice cracked over the intercom. Jean could hear the edges of a smirk in her tone and he couldn’t help but smile. She was the smallest of the squad, but she could pack a punch.

The team made their way up to the school, calling in from one of the radios Erwin had given them. Reiner spoke in a serious tone, “Trost Garrison division, this is 104th Recon Corps squad, we have cleared the area of any threats and are requesting you remove your barricades on the school so we can begin immediate evacuation.”

The team waited a moment before a muffled response came through the speaker. “104 the barrier has been lifted and you are free to begin evacuation.”

The team gave a small whoop of victory and opened the front doors of the school. They were greeted by what looked like the leader of this squad garrison. The first thing that surprised Jean was how fearful his eyes looked, gaunt circles settling beneath them and worry lines were too prominent in the corners. His blond hair was growing in as rough stubble and he looked as if he was in desperate need of a bath.

“Thank gods you are here. The people are restless, the rations supplies was short. We had to stop three fights already today and some of the sick are already showing signs of turning.”

The team stood still as the need to find his mother whirled around Jean’s mind like an annoying fly that refused to let his mind focus on anything else. He decided to break the silence and addressed the squad leader.

“How many managed to make it to safety?”

“Two hundred and twelve accounted for in the school, one hundred and eighty in the hospital.”

“How many were bitten?”

The man shuddered, “too many.”

Jean nodded. “Squad leader, we are going to need you to separate those who have been bitten from those who haven’t. We will carry those off in specially assigned busses where they will receive medical attention.”

He nodded, still shaken and eyes transfixed on the floor as he continued to guide them in the direction of the gym.

“Squad leader, I don’t suppose you would be able to tell me if a particular person made it to safety or not?” Jean’s determination growing steadily.

“Depends, who are you asking for?”

“The last names Kirschstein. First name is Claudette, she’s about five inches shorter than me, lives down near the records house, you recognize the name?” Jean tried not to sound over eager with anticipation.

The man’s face immediately began to pale. He never looked past the spot on the toe of his boots. “You know Claudette, huh?”

“Squad leader,” Jean began to pursue harder, trying hard not to let the annoyance in his voice become too prominent.

“She isn't in the school or the hospital, I made it over there and checked it out for myself yesterday afternoon.” He muttered, refusing to look Jean in the eyes. “How do you know her?”

Jean worked hard to not let his fear become too obvious. He bit his tongue sharply, causing himself to wince. “Claudette is my mother.” He stated sharply, quickening their pace.

“You’re Jean?” The squad leader awed. Jean couldn't help but blush at how man’s mouth was now gaping slightly as he looked down to observe Jean fully. “It makes sense, you know, you have her nose. You know, she would never stop talking about you, her hero son who took off to the military and spent his days protecting the cities. She was real proud of you.”

Jean felt the heat rise to his face, it sounded just like his mother to talk him up like that. He escaped from having to respond by Reiner grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back to talk to him. “Excuse me squad leader, if you don’t mind me talking to Officer Kirschstein for a few quick seconds.” Reiner said in an unnaturally sweet tone before clasping his hand tightly around Jean’s arm like a vice and pulling him away from the group.

He looked down to the smaller boy, searching his expression before deciding to speak. “You should have told me your mother lived in Trost, or hell, that you were from Trost for that matter.” He hissed lowly, hints of anger dripping from his voice.

“Didn't seem like relevant information at the time, team leader.” Jean bit out, trying not to let his voice sound too sour and turned to fall back in with the group.

Reiner rolled his eyes, stopping Jean from catching up with the rest of the team and forcing him back into the wall. “Don’t give me that, Kirschstein,” he growled. Reiner rarely became angry, but when he did it never failed to make Jean cower like a five year old. “I need to know about my team, what might prevent you from performing your best work. And it seems to me that personal connections to a town with your own damn mother still living in it would affect your performance. So tell me, Jean, am I going to have to send your sorry ass back home, or can you execute this mission without any personal ties influencing you to make some stupid-ass decision that could end up getting you, or worse, one of your team members, bitten?”

Jean couldn't speak, Reiner’s threatening words causing all of the thoughts from his brain and his usual cocky retorts to stick in his throat.

Reiner sighed, “that’s what I thought.”

Jean sputtered in exasperation, desperate to get a few words out, “Reiner, no, it isn’t like- geez, just let me-”

“Shut up, Jean,” Reiner cut him off, rolling his eyes again and taking a step back away from Jean. “I’m not going to send you back, calm down. We’ll get a system established here, once we are settled I’ll send you ahead with a team. You start going through the houses, search _thoroughly_ and search well or I really will send you back to the bus.”

Jean couldn’t help but sigh with relief. This was the reason Reiner was team leader, he understood the members of the squad better than anyone. “Thank you.” Jean tried to place as much gratitude as he could in those two words.

“Yeah, don’t mention it or I’ll deny it,” he muttered and the two of them turned around and jogged back to where the squad was waiting at the entrance of the gym waiting for orders from Reiner.

“Jean, Sasha, Franz, and Bertoldt, you find the sick and take them to the separate busses. After that I want the four of you to start making your way through town and checking houses and shelters, don’t gather too many at once, only around ten at a time and then drop them off at the hospital. The rest of you will escort the civilians waiting inside to the buses that have pulled around back.” No one questioned Reiner’s authority while he put his finger to his ear to activate the microphone in his earpiece. “Christa, how are we looking from up top?”

Christa’s kind voice crackled through the earpiece, “we have an occasional infected walking through the town we tap off but besides that it’s easy going up here, Levi’s squad is doing a good job of keeping them out.”

“Good, stay safe, we are going to start evacuations in about five minutes.” he muttered and then pulled his hand away, “Okay guys, let’s get going.”

“Damn, why do you get all the fun stuff.” Connie muttered to Jean and Sasha as the doors of the gym opened.  
Jean could see the beginning of a smartass reply form on Sasha’s face as he began to think of his own, when everyone abruptly stopped walking, looking around at the people in the gym. Families sat huddled in corners, wrapped in blankets and protecting their children instinctively. The air stood still and the feeling of fear radiated off of every person in the room and made Jean shiver. The team slowly began to split up, Jean made his way with Eren, Hannah, and Annie to assist them with grouping up the members and identifying any who had been bitten.

They walked up to a family sitting on the ground, consisting of a mother, father, three kids, and maybe an uncle or family friend. Hannah spoke first, naturally the best at talking to strangers, “Hi, there, my name is Hannah. It is our job to get you out today, we’re going to evacuate you from this school and we’ll take you back to a refugee camp where you are going to be protected. Can you guys come with us?” She extended her hand to what looked like to be the mother of the family. She stared hard at Hannah, doubting whether she could trust her. In the end she reached up and grabbed Hannah’s fingers, getting up to her feet and grabbing the four year old who was sitting beside her.

“Now we have to ask for safety reasons, is there any of you that might have been bitten, scratched, or infected in anyway? We need to make sure any who have get’s the medical attention they need.” Jean spoke up, inspecting any of the family members for signs of wounds or the beginning signs of the disease taking control of their body. The mother shook her head quickly tears pooling in her eyes as she rose her hand to her mouth to hide a soft sob. She spoke softly in another language Jean couldn’t identify.

“Irish,” Eren muttered in his ear and Jean nodded.

He took the woman’s hand and gripped it softly. “Ma’am… I know you are trying to protect your family, but if someone might become sick we need to know.”

“I was grabbed,” the oldest boy, no older than fifteen rose to his feet. “I don’t know if he scratched me or not, it all ‘appened too fast.” He muttered, averting his eyes from his mother who had begun to yell in another language.

Jean felt his stomach sink. Bites were the most common method for a person to catch the disease but it could be transmitted through the blood as well. He threw a quick smile on his face, “Alright kiddo, you can come with me.” He reached out for the kid’s hand who looked to his mother reluctantly.

Hannah placed a hand on her shoulder and started to speak to her in words so soft, Jean could not make them out. The mother finally looked up and muttered, “ _Dul_ ,” to her son. He nodded solemnly and took Jean’s hand.

“He’s going to be okay, yes?” The woman pleaded with Hannah.

“We are going to do everything we can.” Hannah grabbed her hand and helped guide the family to where one of the groups would be taking off soon.

Jean guided the kid through the crowd, never once letting go of his hand. He seemed to be embarrassed, so he attempted to bring up a little small talk with the boy. “So, what’s your name, kid?” He asked as they weaved their way through the crowd. He caught eyes with Armin who gave him a mournful look. Jean shook his head, hoping the kid couldn’t sense the sadness in his voice.

“Keegan,” he muttered, refusing to look at Jean.

“Well you look like a big guy, what do you do, tend to fields? Or guard the city at night, you look almost old enough to be one of the garrison.”

Keegan finally smiled, “I’m only fourteen. My father owns a butcher’s shop, I help deliver the meat to the customers.”

“Fourteen? No, that’s a mistake, I could have sworn you were seventeen.”

“And I could have said the same for you, you don’t look old enough to be in the Recon Corps.”

Jean was taken aback. He was always told by his mother he looked older than he actually was, “Try 26, _le gamin_.” Jean tried to not sound too cranky, which only made Keegan laugh.

“Oi, you’re French?” He giggled.

“My mother is, how do you know any French?” Jean caught sight of Bertoldt who had created a little huddle of people who were all at various stages of the disease infection taking control of their body. Some were just slightly shaken with bags under their eyes, while others had a crazed look on their face and their eyes were sunken into their head.

“Someone I would make deliveries to, she was a seamstress and sometimes when she was fixing up my pants she would teach me a bit.”

Jean smiled. That was exactly something his mother would do. “Ms. Kirschstein was her name, wasn’t it?” He asked Keegan.

“Yeah, how do you know?” The kid started to stop but Jean pulled him just a little bit forward until he was standing beside Bertoldt.

“She’s my mother,” Jean clapped his back. “Alright, Keegan, my man, this is a very good friend of mine, Bertoldt, he’ll take care of. Bertoldt, this is Keegan, he’s got a big mouth for his age and a quick wit so don’t let those baby blue’s fool you, he’s smart as a whip.”

Bertoldt gave a quick smile to Keegan and shook his hand. His eyes met Jean’s and he could see the sadness in them. Bertoldt spoke in his native language, German, hoping nobody around could understand what they were saying. “ _Was ist passiert_?” “What happened?”

Jean smiled, trying to fool the kid into thinking they were having a pleasant conversation. “ _Zerkratzt_.” “Scratched.” Jean gave a small laugh, “ _sieht nicht gut aus_.” “Doesn’t look good.” But then he gave Keegan a light hair fluff and said in English, “but who knows, he might give you a run for your money.”

Bertoldt gave a weak smile, he wasn’t as good as fooling the kid as Jean was, causing Keegan was looking between the two of them cautiously. “You guys weren't talkin’ about me, where you? Ay, Jean, what did you say?”

Jean just gave a hearty laugh and turned back around to go search for more of the potentially sick, “don’t ask me any questions and I won’t tell you any lies, I’ll be back in a minute!” And he was off to search for more. He found three more who were obviously sick, all of them at least twenty years older than Keegan. He convinced them to come with him, guiding them to Bertoldt before he made his way behind Daz and Connie who were talking to another small family, trying to sort them into a group.

“Jean?” A familiar voice called his name, thick with a German accent. He recognized the voice immediately, god, it sounded so much like his, even if it was higher and obviously female. They shared the same accent and speaking pattern. Jean moved out from behind Daz and looked to the speaker. Two hands flew out to hug him before he could even see her face.

He caught sight of the blond hair and his suspicions were confirmed. “Ms. Wagner.” He muttered, embracing her fully. She pulled away to look at him fully, smile never leaving her face. He felt his breath get caught in his throat, she reminded Jean so much of him.

She grabbed his face and kissed his cheek twice, and Jean couldn't help but flush. He caught Connie’s smirk out of the corner of his eye and made a mental note to get him back later. “Jean!” She exclaimed again, saying the name like she always had, pronouncing the J a little too harsh, almost sounding like Gene. “They told me the Recon were coming to evacuate us, but I didn't think you would be here! Oh god, look how much you've grown, and how slim you are! You always were a chubby thing! I told your mom she gave you too much rice, but she never listened to me!”

At that comment, Connie physically snorted, covering his mouth and disguising the laugh with a cough.

Jean ignored him, holding Ms. Wagner’s rough hands in his own. She had aged over the last few years, the lines in her eyes and mouth becoming deeper and her eyes were undoubtedly older. “You look really good,” he smiled.

He was rewarded with a hand slapping the side of his head, “You’re talking like an old man, Jean don’t be so formal! Come, we have to talk, how many years has it been since I last saw you?”

She knew exactly how many years it had been, Jean was sure. His funeral, over two years ago, was the last day he had seen her or his own mother. He ignored the last question, merely smiling and kissing her cheek. “Of course Ms. Wagner, we will. But not now, I have a job to do.”

She waved her hand through the air, shooing the thought away. “Oh okay, big military hotshot, but afterwards, you, me, and your mom will get to talking. I know she is anxious to see you, can’t stop talking about how her Jean-bo is off saving the world.”

Jean felt himself flush again, “That sounds like mom, doesn't it?” He clasped her hand and turned to Connie and Daz. “Guys, this is an old friend, Ms. Wagner. You take care of her, okay?” Connie shot Jean a quick glance, recognizing the name for the first time. Jean caught his eyes and shook his head quickly before turning to Ms. Wagner and smiling. “Ms. Wagner, this is Connie and Daz, they are apart of my squad. If you have any questions, you can ask them.  They are actually smarter than they appear.” Jean gave her one last hug and she kissed his cheek.

“Stay safe, Jean,” she smiled warmly and followed Connie and Daz to an evacuation group.

Sasha’s voice scared Jean as it came through the intercom, “Reiner, we've got all of the possibly infected gathered.”

“Good work, make your way to the bus out back, there should be a group of trainees to assist you.” Reiner replied.

“Trainees?” Jean touched the earpiece to activate the mic. “What the hell are trainees doing here?”

Reiner grunted, “Not their damn job, so don’t give them too big of a task. It was Shadis’s idea, Levi isn't happy either. Just tell them to keep watch or something, they are second year trainees so they are somewhat capable of doing that. Ymir, Christa, that means you gotta cover them as well.”

Ymir answered for the two of them, “gotcha.”

Levi’s deep condescending voice made their way into the conversation. “Braun, what is this about a sick evac team?”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the intercom. Reiner was tough but Levi was much more intimidating.  
“I made a call as team leader and decided to send a very capable group ahead.” Reiner’s voice barely wavered.

The silence was unbearable. Jean bit his lip, he couldn't think of what would happen if he wasn't allowed to go ahead and search for his mother.  
Levi merely sighed into the mic, “Don’t do anything stupid,” and the earpiece went silent.

Jean moved to where Bertoldt was standing where he was joined by Franz and Sasha. The group of possibly infected, including Keegan, had totaled to seventeen in all. The worst of the bunch was a woman in her late thirties, eyes hollowed and glassy and her skin already beginning to take on a waxy yellow shade. The group refused to get too close to her except for Sasha, who had placed her hand on her shoulder and rubbed it lightly.

Jean motioned to the door they were to exit out of and grunted, “alright, Keegan, lead us out.”

Keegan took his place in front of Jean and lead everyone out, quite easily the most chipper of the group.

“Where are we going to go after this?” Someone from the back asked softly.

Jean struggled to swallow the lump in his throat before he answered their question, “back to our training center, they will establish a refugee camp you will stay in until we can get you set up in some of the surrounding towns.”

“No,” the same man asked, grabbing Jean’s arm, forcing the group to stop. “What’s going to happen to us.”

Sasha reached out and grabbed the man’s hand off of Jean’s arm and grasped it with her own. “You’re going to receive medical attention by some of the military’s best and brightest. We will give you everything we can.”

The man started shaking his head violently, pushing away Sasha’s arm. “And then what. You observe us like lab rats until you have to kill us.” Bertoldt stood forward, pushing the people in his way behind him. Jean made sure Keegan ended up outside of the protective circle the four of them had begun to make around the man causing trouble.

“Reiner, a little help over here,” Bertoldt muttered into his earpiece. They hadn't left the gym yet and people were beginning to stare. “Sir, we really need to ask that you calm down and move along at least outside of the gym.”

The man’s hands started shaking as he reached up and ran his fingers aggressively through his hair. “This is how it begins, doesn't it? You’re helping us, aren't you! Going to make it better? This government is sick, we are contained like cattle until either you or the disease kills us!” The man was yelling now and Sasha attempted to step forward.

“Sir, you have to understand the circumstances-” Sasha couldn't finish her sentence as the man made a vicious grab for her head. She dogged his swipe easily, grunting as she grabbed the hand that flew toward her and twisting it, taking a step under his arm and pinning the hand to his back. “Okay, sir, you are aware you just attacked an officer of the military?” She snapped, reaching for the handcuffs we kept on our belt. “That is a punishable offense and I have the right to arrest you without questioning.”

“Arrest me and then what? Wait for me to die in the cell? Sweetheart, we are already in a cell!” he yelled even louder, trying to bring his free elbow back into Sasha’s face.

Sasha knocked the man to the ground, wrenching his other arm back and snapping a pair of handcuffs on his wrists and tightening them. “You know,” she muttered through gritted teeth, “I really don’t like it when people call me sweetheart.”

Reiner was jogging over at this point with Mikasa on his tail, making his way behind Bertoldt, gently weaseling his big frame between Bertoldt and Franz. “What happened, are you okay?” He asked his boyfriend.

Bertoldt blushed, shaking his head, “he was resisting, provoked Sasha, she restrained him. Not a big deal.”

Sasha stood up, pushing the bangs out of her face and coming to stand beside Jean. “Nice,” Jean muttered in her ear.

She simply nodded, but Jean could see the tiniest bit of a smile. She was proud of herself.

Reiner looked between the four of them, then behind them to the group they were escorting. He finally met Jean’s gaze, who tried not to look desperate. He sighed, “You four go on ahead with your group. Mikasa, you take this man and get three of the Garrison to guard him, then get back to what you were doing, no need to throw a kink into things.”

Jean gave him a grateful nod, watching Mikasa force the man to his feet and guide him to the front of the room. He then gathered the group together again, giving Keegan his role as leader.

“Wow,” was all the younger boy said, looking at Sasha with utter respect. She gave a small grin and looked up to Jean.

“Who's your friend? He’s a cutie.” She smiled putting her arm on his shoulder and grinned even harder when his ears reddened.

“Keegan, this is Sasha, Sasha, this is Keegan. And yeah, Keegan, she’s a badass.”

They exited the gym, making their way through the hallway. “How do you become part of the military?” He blurted suddenly.

Jean looked down at him, slightly shocked. “Why, you thinking of enlisting?”

Keegan blushed harder, shrugging his shoulders, “well, I mean, just considering a possibility. You know, if I didn't get the disease.” His voice broke toward the end and Jean realized just how scared the kid was.

“Well, you have three years of some pretty intense training, but if you graduate, you get the option of going to the Garrison, Recon, or Military Police. Only the really big hotshots have the option to go to the Military Police, though, that’s reserved for the best. But whatever branch you choose, that’s the branch you stay in, you hardly interact with the other branches, they all have their own commanders, duties, objectives.”

“You weren’t good enough for the Police?” Keegan asked following Jean’s lead now as they made their way to the back of the school, passing the occasional member of the Garrison and nodding to them.

Jean almost stopped walking, taken aback by the bluntness of the comment. “Actually I was,” he muttered. “I was damn tempted to, but a friend convinced me otherwise.” Sasha looked up at Jean, her eyes saddened. “See, we were in this thing together, and I wasn’t going to back out and leave him.” He smiled weakly, glad that they were ending the hallway, about to exit the building.

“You know, Keegan, I was eligible too, so was Bertoldt,” Sasha turned the conversation away from Jean and pointed back to Bertoldt who was backing up the group.

“Why didn’t you take the Military Police? If it’s only for the best?” He pushed open the doors, revealing the bus his group would take.

Sasha smirked, “because we’re idiots.”

* * *

After the group was loaded onto the bus, Jean made sure the trainees were at least somewhat capable of keeping off any infected. The bus took off, leaving Jean to lead their group around the school. Every now and then, the crack of a rifle would explode through the air and Jean knew Christa and Ymir were doing their job.

“Christa, we are about to make our way from behind the school, please for the love of god don’t shoot us. Team of four, just keep an eye out on things for us, take out anything from far away.” Jean spoke into the mic, waiting for confirmation from Christa before rounding the corner.

Ymir spoke instead, “Gotcha, just don’t do anything stupid, we’ll do the rest.”

He motioned for the group to head out, making a beeline for the path to his mother’s house.

“Jean…” Bertoldt called hesitantly from the back. “Shouldn't we do this systematically, make our way through town instead of plowing through?”

Jean gritted his teeth, trying not to respond too sharply to Bertoldt’s good intentions. “There’s something I have to do, guys.” He could hear their hesitant breath and sighed. “Trust me.”

The three of them exchanged a quick glance. They were reluctant, he could tell. Finally, Franz put a good natured hand on his shoulder and gave Jean a small smile. “Of course.”

Jean nodded, having the rest of them fall in line behind him. He walked through the town, passing the small brick houses, seeing the butcher shop that undoubtedly belonged to Keegan’s father, more familiar shops and even the park where Jean used to play when he was younger.

They got a good look at the hospital, observing the buses that had begun to pull up.

“Jean, on your left,” Christa’s voice burst into his ear. He winced at the loud noise but raised his gun. The infected caught his eye, hiding between two houses where there was no way Christa could have gotten a clear shot. He tapped it off easily, watching the body crumple to the ground before turning back around and following the path to his house.

“Thanks, Christa,” he muttered, not breaking his stride for a second.

He finally caught sight of his house, stopping the group’s light jog and turning to face them. “My house is up on the left with the yellow chimney, my mother should be inside,” he ignored their disapproving looks. “We get her out, bring her to the buses and then we can start a thorough search. I’m sorry I wasn’t completely truthful, but I had to do this.” Jean refused to look them in the eyes, ashamed for being deceitful to his team, ready to receive whatever scolding he was going to get from the group.

Franz was the first to speak again, “of course. If the situation were reversed I’m sure we would all do the same.”

He couldn't help but smile gratefully, getting a pat on the back from Sasha and a quick nod from Bertoldt.

Jean held his breath for a second and made his way to his house. The infected had a habit of gathering in shelter, so there was no telling how many were stuck inside. His door was damaged, ripped off the hinges and laid in pieces propped against the wall. He tried not to grow too fearful, raising his gun and nodding to his team. He swung inside quickly, immediately having to bring his foot up and kick an infected back onto the ground. Fifteen, maybe twenty were in the room. He grunted, feeling Sasha come to his side and start firing. He shot the body that he had kicked to the ground, turning to the side and shooting another one down. A cry came from the bathroom, his mother, no doubt hearing the gunfire and becoming frightened. He swallowed any indecision, plowing his way forward, shooting once, twice, a third time. He could hear his team behind him, firing as well, communicating to each other. Jean blocked them out, bringing the hilt of his gun to the side and slamming a body to the ground.

Jean had made it past the couch, pushing a body behind him for Sasha or Franz to handle.

“JEAN!” Bertoldt screamed, his loud tone penetrating Jean’s concentration. They had bodies piling on them, Bertoldt was pinned against a wall, keeping an infected away by pushing on it’s chest with his foot.

Jean locked eyes with Bertoldt, and a knowing look passed between them. Bertoldt pushed hard and shifted to the left, falling into a roll as Jean fired twice, dropping the body to the ground. He caught Bertoldt’s eyes again to see if he was okay. he nodded quickly before his eyes widened and he rose his hand to point behind Jean.

He pivoted his hips to the left, feeling the sharp pain erupting from his elbow where it connected with a jaw and the fragile bones shattering under the force. He pulled his gun across his body, twisting further and waiting for it to pass his side before firing. The body fell to the ground and Jean brought the gun up again, shooting another body making his way from the hallway. The bathroom was so close, where the lights were flashing furiously under the door, signaling his attention. “ _Maman_ , it’s Jean! I’ll be right there!” He called and the lights stopped flashing.

Making his way forward, he took one of the chairs that had been destroyed and brought it down on the neck of an infected, dropping it quickly. Jean was in the hallway now, the bathroom door right in front of him. There were a group of infected making their way toward him, moving too quickly. He shot twice, only taking down one of the four. He fired again, only to feel his clip was empty. He didn't have any ready, it would take him to long to change out another one. He holstered his gun and pulled his knife out instead, banging his hand on the door of the bathroom.

“ _Maman_ , open the door!” Jean yelled to her through the door. The knob began to turn slowly while Jean pinned his back to the door. One of the infected had already made their way beside him, making a grab for his face. Jean gave it a solid roundhouse kick in the gut, slamming it hard enough to give his mom another second to wrench open the door.

Without the door bracing his weight, Jean felt himself falling backwards, flinging his hands forward in a desperate attempt to stop his fall. He grabbed nothing but empty air, trying not to groan out in pain as he hit the ground. Oh god, he thought, I just used my own mother as a cushion.

But the grunt that came from underneath him was deeper than his mother’s should have been. Instinctively, Jean brought his boot up to slam the door closed behind them and he turned around to see who was under him.

A man, not much older than Jean, laid underneath him, eyes squinted shut in pain as his fingers ran through his dark brown hair, cushioning it from the hard, wood floor underneath them. His face was covered in freckles all over the his already tan cheeks, and when he finally opened them, brown eyes stared back up into Jean’s.

Jean didn't move, mouth open in shock. The stranger stared at him, eyebrows raised slightly, waiting for him to do something.

Finally Jean managed to blurt out, “You’re not my mom!”

“What was your first clue?” The stranger managed to get out, still not moving underneath Jean.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jean ignored his question.

The stranger groan, rubbing his head again. He had hit his head pretty hard and he was having trouble stringing his words together. Jean couldn't help but watch his expression as his eyes pinched shut, concentrating on his next few words, before his eyelids fluttered back open and he managed to grunt out, “Marco… Marco Bodt.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this chapter ended up being a lot longer than I intended it to be but I really wanted to get to introducing Marco before the end. Thank you to Lucy and Mady for reading over it and editing it, and a special thanks to Megan for inspiring the "You're not my mother!" line.  
> Also, I literally used google translate for the different languages so please let me know if something is incorrect.  
> Keegan's mom is speaking Irish which translate's out to "Go."  
> "le gamin" ~ little boy


End file.
